


Easy Corner

by RainbowPools



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Host Clubs, M/M, Massage, Multi, Romance, Sex, Sickness & Injury, ridiculously self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowPools/pseuds/RainbowPools
Summary: You wouldn’t know at first glance, but Kazuma struggles with diabetes, a bum shoulder, and Chronic Cuddle Syndrome.Despite his confident outward veneer, Chrono has insecurities that stack to the sky, a complex double major, and family troubles he’s never lamented about.Tado is always on the move and lonely as hell.Ibuki’s the embodiment of awkward, overworked, and sleep deprived, just getting by on coffee and the search for sweetness.They all suck at love..But they all find solace in Easy Corner
Relationships: Anjou Tokoha/Okazaki Kumi, Dragheart Luard/Dragwizard Morfessa, Enishi Satoru/Shinonome Shouma, Ibuki Kouji/Shindou Chrono, Kanzaki Yuichirou/Anjou Mamoru, Kiba Shion/Hayao Henri/Hashima Rin, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Shindou Chrono & Shouji Kazuma, Shouji Kazuma & Luard, Shouji Kazuma & Okazaki Kumi, Shouji Kazuma/Tado Tsuneto, Trinity Dragon - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Easy Corner

Because being lonely is so easy and finding companionship so difficult, we invite you to carry your kind, heavy heart into Easy Corner. There is food and refreshment, recreation and rest. Most of all, our precious gentlemen will treat you with the upmost care and respect. Should you have a problem, you might report it immediately to our staff on unobtrusive standby. Here, there is nothing you can’t do, nothing you can’t say. You are safe and well looked after in the sanctity of Easy Corner,

Vice Head Mamoru Anjou  
Chief Executive Officer Yuichirou Kanzaki

Easy Corner catered to women. There was no prejudice against men of course, in fact they were more than welcome, only, Easy corner could be considered the toned down, pampering volume of a host club. It was established in Ginza and Kazuma had yet to get a car, so he was either borrowing rides from his brother or his roommate to get there. On rare occasions he’d find himself taking a bus or train and then breaking into an all out careen to arrive at his destination. This was one of those days. It was a terrible idea given his medical history and his bum shoulder, but alas, work was work, and Kazuma’s rent wouldn’t pay itself. With a sigh, he dragged a handkerchief from his bag and wiped the sweat pooling on his brow, breaths heavy and gaze almost glazed with exhaustion. He slipped into the back entrance of Easy Corner, winding down the dark halls and disappearing into the changing rooms. Jazz thrummed in the background, the vast room illuminated with muted artificial light. He dropped his bag on the upholstery divan, stepping from his shoes and sliding his jacket from his shoulders. The quiet chatter of the common room was muffled behind the walls, and his body began to relax, his mind drifting into a clearer, sleepier space. 

“Hey there Kazuma,” Chrono’s rich voice bubbled into the room as the stall door clicked open and he ambled inside, hair a messy scarlet halo around the sharp angles of his face, that signature pink swirl that all the girls loved to pull curling into an unrealistic cue. Kazuma had always had trouble believing that swirl was natural, not that he, one with distinct poliosis, could much point the finger. 

“How goes it Chrono?” Kazuma asked, heaving his shirt over his head. 

“Pretty good,” Chrono swung by, clapped Kazuma on his good shoulder, and begun to undress himself. The pair stripped down to their under garments, hanging their clothes on the racks nailed to the walls, and exchanging them for their uniforms. Kazuma had always thought Chrono looked a little unfair, captivated by those generous green eyes, by the pillowy pink of his skin, by the prominent definition of his shoulders, the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t amorously attracted to his best friend, but he could acknowledge how sinfully handsome he was. 

“How’s life been for you?” Chrono smoothed the ends of his black suit vest, “How’s your shoulder?” 

“It’s just fine,” Kazuma said and rotated his shoulder once, wiggling his tie into a straight line. Not one uniform was identical. Kanzaki had thought it best to let the boys choose their own outfits, just so long as they were in fact, a type of suit, and had black as the main color. So while the tight muscles of Chrono’s arms were outlined in the long-sleeved white blouse under his velvet black suit vest, and a red pendent was snapped on the knot of his bow tie, Kazuma settled for an open black blazer under a white blouse, his ensemble all a little ruffled if only to appeal to his lazy disposition. Kanzaki had been irritated with it at first, but had eventually let it go when Mamoru pointed out that all of Kazuma’s customers liked tidying up his livery for him. 

“Hey, could you and Luard come over to my place tonight?” Chrono asked, hand coming up to drag through his hair, “I kinda need some help. Professor Yashiki has introduced some concepts I don’t completely understand.”

“Sure,” Kazuma cocked his head with a half grin, squeezing Chrono’s shoulder with an unnecessary amount of force then sliding past him to leave the changing room. Chrono returned his grin in full and traipsed after him, arms pillowed behind his head. 

Easy Corner was a large establishment, consisting of three floors purposed for a restaurant, game and lounge, and lodging on the first, second, and third floors respectively. Kazuma checked in with the chefs in the kitchen, Chrono right at his side. The kitchen clambered with noise as chefs of all kinds prepped many a gourmet meals, Kazuma tried to ignore his anxiety as heavy pots were being slid over the counters, and chefs hurried over the glossed floor with steaming plates and sharp fang knives.

“Hey there y’all,’” Mamoru popped up from behind the kitchen island, a prism of slick white wood and sleek, black, marble countertop. He was a long, slender gentleman in his late thirties, somehow retaining the youth of his twenties, clear skinned and smooth faced, volcanic brown eyes warm and round, managing to pull off ocean teal hair, soft and swishing around his neck, bangs curling to the right. He wore a sunny smile, hands brushing down his apron. Sure he was Vice President and genuinely only had to oversee the customers and employees, but he also worked as one of the restaurant’s patissiers. His confections were always a treat as well, quite sweet and melting, much like Mamoru Anjou himself.

“So, Chrono,” he began, “Sonomi, Nanami, and Haruka are ready for you at table eight. Do you remember your plan for them?”

“Yupper,” Chrono flashed a thumb’s up. Easy Corner worked in a way so that the host, that is, the positions Chrono and Kazuma worked, could essentially set their own hours. Requests for ideal hosts were made on Easy Corner’s website. If the hosts were available, then the to-be-customer could make their reservation, setting the hours they’d spend at Easy Corner, choosing the activities they’d indulge in, and finally selecting their preferred method of payment. Kanzaki expected his hosts to answer every request that went their way, however he allowed a small margin of clemency and exception for Kazuma and Chrono since the pair both pursued double majors, and were therefore taking about twenty five credits. 

“Great,” Mamoru nodded and clapped his hands, ‘And Kazuma? Mikoko’s ready for you at table thirteen. You remember your schedule for today as well?” 

“Mhm,” Kazuma bobbed his chin in a nod. 

“All right then. Let’s get to it. Do your best boys,” Mamoru gave another encouraging grin. With twin bows, Kazuma and Chrono left the chaotic bustle of the kitchen, stepping into the restaurant area. Chatter floated through the air as other hosts entertained their customers, and the smell of expensive hot foods and fluffy desserts made Kazuma dizzy. The floor was blanketed in red carpet, round tables draped in white lace cloths embellished with silver, surrounded in leather seating. The area was dim with gold chandeliers and lambent candelabra, the jazz a touch louder in the restaurant. Kazuma and Chrono exchanged a glance and then went their separate ways, the former sauntering to table thirteen and the latter striding over to table eight.

“Look, a couple of my favorite girls,” Chrono’s voice echoed a little, and the three girls he was waiting on perked up in greeting. Kazuma pressed his lips in concern as he neared table eight. Mikoko, whom was so often bright and eager, had her head bowed, brown eyes cast toward the table, ebon bangs curtaining her face, but not hiding the frown her fair lips were bent into.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Mikoko,” Kazuma said sweetly, stopping at her chair and glancing down at her. 

“Hey Kazuma,” Mikoko raised her head to look at him, tone as sepulchral as her expression. “Your clothes are crooked” 

“Why don’t you fix them for me then?” Kazuma said, more of a challenge than a request. Shifting in her seat to face him fully, Mikoko slid her hands down the silky fabric of Kazuma’s white blouse, crushing the creases under her palms. Her hands moved up to his neck, fixing up his tie. Kazuma offered a grateful grin, though he’d have to muss his clothes again before his next customer came around. 

“Can I sit?” he asked. 

“Of course,” Mikoko replied, tone still dull. Kazuma pulled out a chair and sat beside her, near unnerved by her apathy. Mikoko was a patron of his whom came as often as her pay check allowed. She could be a little cranky if she was having a bad day, but she was hardly ever despondent, and, despite being slow to admit, he had grown to appreciate her golden smile. 

“How bout we pick something to eat and you tell me what’s the matter, okay?” Kazuma pushed the menu across the table to her. 

“All right,” with a groggy nod, Mikoko flipped the menu open, perusing her options. 

By the time she had purchased dessert, which Kazuma had to coax her into doing, she had yet to explain what was bothering her. Kazuma didn’t push the subject, keeping their conversations light with manga and weather and the many shopping districts of Tokyo. Mikoko had reserved a couple hours with Kazuma, to which she assigned the better parts of cuddling. So it was that Kazuma extended his arm, she latched on, and the two made their way to the lounge upstairs. Kazuma got her settled on a velvet cushion situated before a glass panel that overlooked the prominade below, and then plopped right beside her with a huff. 

“Can I hold you?” he asked, an employee procedure he had gotten use to despite being a cuddler by instinct. Respect was the most driving principle behind Easy Corner, followed by affection and pleasure. Mikoko nodded wordlessly. Kazuma draped his arms around her and pulled her close. She blew a sigh, relaxed beneath his arms, shut her large eyes. 

“Wanna talk now?” Kazuma ran his fingers through her hair. There were other occupants in the lounge of course, but the likelihood they were paying attention to them was small. After all, customers were too distracted with their hosts and vice versa to mind the company of others in the area. 

“My friend’s being a pain in the ass,” Mikoko mumbled, her words muffled in Kazuma’s shirt, but he was glad to hear a hint of her spunk return. 

“Oh yeah?” Kazuma chuckled, “How so?” 

‘She,” Mikoko paused as though she still couldn’t believe it, “She hasn’t been paying her half of the rent, or the bills.”

“What? Well is she financially unstable? Like, is she out of a job?

“I wouldn’t be mad if she was, but she’s perfectly fine. She’s just left everything to me. I don’t know why. I haven’t even seen her in the apartment much lately.”

“Well,” Kazuma leaned back to cup her cheek, catching her fiery gaze. “That puts a lot of stress on you, doesn’t it? Until you figure out how to fix this, you probably shouldn’t spend so much money coming here to see me.”

“But, you’re my only source of sanity right now,” her eyes embiggened, “On top of Sora being a jackass, my boss has been on top of me for the littlest mistakes. Oh yeah..” She poked her bottom lip out in a pout, “And my grandfather’s been hospitalized for diabetic complications.”

“Hmm. I guess I could talk to my boss about a temporary discount for my favorite patron,” Kazuma turned his head, looking at her suggestively from one side, with a sly grin that bespoke of secrets and conspiracy.

“Really?” Mikoko brightened, a rosy hue rising to her cheeks.

“Why not?” Kazuma tossed his head, “As for your boss, I bet he’s cranky cause you’re doing well and probably deserve a promotion.”

Mikoko was giggling.

“Don’t worry too hard about your grandfather. So long as the problem is caught early, most diabetic issues can be solved.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, I’ve been diabetic since I was a kid, type A,” another conspiratorial smirk.

“Kazuma, you look ripped,” Mikoko blinked.

“I’m not,” Kazuma said, “I’m at a weird state with my body right now. I cared a lot more in high school and yeah, was pretty damn jacked, but keeping up muscle with diabetes at sixteen is a lot easier than at twenty six with a double major and a hospitality job.”

“Oh,” Mikoko was mildly intrigued, and appreciated the imperfection.

“Now, about Sora,” Kazuma said, with no interest in continuing the prior conversation. “Send her a text saying that you’re withdrawing from the lease and moving.”

“What?”

“You need to get her attention so you can have a chat about her throwing her weight around.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she dropped her forehead against his chest in relief, “Thanks Kazuma.”

“Don’t get weird about it. It’s fine,” Kazuma ran his hands through her hair. She giggled. This was his job, to care for the lonesome, and all he really had to do was be himself. Almost anyone could become a gentleman of Easy Corner, and just like a host club, your salary depended on how many girls, or guys, you charmed. Kazuma went through a number of females in the next several hours, serving from one to five at a time, until two a.m. and it was time to finally head out. He met up with Chrono in the changing room, and as the pair wriggled from their suits, they traded conversation of how their days went and if they were working tomorrow. Chrono was. His first Sunday customer would be there at eleven a.m. Given that he’d be up studying with Kazuma and Luard for another two to three hours, he’d b able to score about five hours of sleep. Kazuma’s first Sunday customer came at nine a.m. allowing him about three hours of sleep. The pair always overworked themselves on the weekends since they could never do a whole lot on the week days. 

“A discount?” Kanzaki sniffed, chin raised, as he swung the keys in his hand and locked the doors to Easy Corner. It was just so late.And after clean up and lock down, the staff were finally allowed to head home. 

‘Yeah, Mikoko’s in a financial slope and a discount would keep her frequenting,” Kazuma explained, as the group stepped out into the parking lot. The sky was a stretch of rich jet, city lights still flickering below. The bustle of Tokyo had dimmed to a faint hum, the streets nigh empty. 

“Thirty percent off, for three weeks,” Kanzaki held up three fingers. Kazuma affirmed his terms with a nod. 

“Hmm, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Kanzaki hummed, then he was pivoting on his heel and heading toward his car. 

“See you in like, five hours,’ Chrono called. 

“You guys take care. Get some rest,” Mamoru said, then he was heading to his own car. Chrono had the sense to purchase a vehicle as soon as his salary permitted, and while they weren’t on the same floor, he and Kazuma shared in an apartment complex. So it was that Kazuma followed Chrono to his car. 

“I’m home,’ Kazuma attempted to call, though it came out as more of a windy croak. The apartment door slid shut behind him and he kicked his shoes off in the genkan, throwing his jacket on the coat rack. Luard didn’t answer, and it wasn’t at all because he was sleeping. Kazuma stopped by Luard’s room, popping his head into the open doorway. Luard was sprawled on his tummy, books and papers scattering the bed around him. His computer was nestled on the pillows in front of him, screen open to the video chat. Morfessa blinked back at him, the desk and bookshelf portions of her room in the camera’s view. Morfessa and Luard attended the community’s Unusual sciences Study Group together, and both of them were majoring in biology and earth science despite they commuted to different colleges. 

“Hey, Nerd, I’m home,’ Kazuma said, by way of greeting. 

“Welcome home loser,” Morfessa was the one to return his pleasant greeting, lips always pulled into that concentrated frown, sky blue eyes ever narrowed. 

“Are you guys in the middle of something important?” Kazuma asked. 

“Not really,” Luard murmured, sitting up to regard Kazuma. Luard was from Europe, though Kazuma wasn’t precisely sure where, but it was present in his enviable height, his creamy pallor, the mess of blonde haloing his face, all sharp and serious lines. His eyes were rosy and almond shaped. He was hiding an unfairly chiseled body under the heavy, high-collared black jacket and disheveled button up he wore. He was honestly way too handsome to only be a waiter at that pancake shop. “Why? Do you need something?” 

“Chrono wants a study buddy,’ Kazuma shrugged with one shoulder and motioned with his hand. Chrono was majoring in astronomy and engineering, so that he could successfully go to space, but he always struggled with ascertaining some part of his lessons. Luckily, Kazuma and Luard had a way of translating the content of his textbooks to a language Chrono could comprehend. 

“All right, I can do that,” Luard said, and looked to Morfessa. The pair exchanged goodbyes in the form of knowing nods, then Luard was clicking is mouse and his computer flashed to its home page. Luard shut it down, then was stumbling not to make a mess of his books and papers as he got from bed. 

“No rush Dude,” Kazuma waved his wrist, “Gonna shower first.” 

“Sure, I’ll clean up till you’re ready then,” Luard said. With that, Kazuma headed for his own room.

Fully bathed in snug in his pajamas, Kazuma went with Luard to Chrono’s room, whom lived two floors down. Chrono proffered two bowls of ramen and vodka sprite to the both of them when they entered. The three gathered on the couch, the cushions sighing under their weight, and got to work.

Tsuneto had a long day. He hardly expected film school would be such an exhausting career path, but he had always enjoyed capturing moments and creating stories through photo and video. Photographer was an obvious job selection for him, but it demanded a lot of energy and attention. Not to mention, his job at the pet shop was equally taxing. Kei had booked him the gig and so the whole of Trinity Dragon was working there. Kei was the only one studying to be a veterinarian, but Tsuneto and Karl certainly didn’t mind helping him out at the pet shop. Getting new strays was always a pain however, because familiarizing the animals with humans would take hours and getting them to cooperate even longer. Oh, and did Tsuneto also mention that he played catcher in baseball? The constant moving around he tended to do always had him sore. 

“You’re cranky,” Karl remarked, when Tsuneto got home for the evening. The three of them owned a cozy one-story together, and Tsuneto had flounced into the living room, throwing his bag on the couch beside Karl and flopping in a nearby arm chair. Kei wasn’t too far away, prepping dinner in the kitchen. 

“I’m tired,” Tsuneto corrected, swinging his arms behind his head, sinking into the chair cushion and closing his eyes. 

“Kei’s making hayashi rice,” Karl said, nose buried in his computer screen as he typed away at the keyboard. 

“Yay,” Tsuneto deadpanned. He blew a heavy sigh, “I’m so fucking sore.” 

“Y’know, you really need a break,” Karl hummed, still a little distracted. 

“You’re tellin me.” 

“You wanna go get a massage or something?”

“No thanks,” Tsuneto shook his head. 

“I’m not doing anything next weekend. Want me to take you out to Shinjuku or something?” Kei called over the sink’s running faucet. 

“You and Karl planned a date right? No need to sabotage your romance on my behalf.” 

“That was a very intelligent sentence Tsuneto,” Karl sang. 

“I will kill you Karl,” Tsuneto rumbled. 

“Ooooo, I know a place you can go while Kei and I are out,” Karl perked up, by the shift in the speed of his typing, he had likely abandoned whatever he was doing in favor of this new idea. “Ah yeah, here we go. Wanna go to Easy Corner?” he asked, pulling up their website on his computer. 

“What?” Tsuneto left the chair to sit on Karl’s free side, peaking at his computer, which was open to the Easy Corner homepage. 

“Oh, that place,” Tsuneto’s face flattened, “I don’t need something like that.” 

“Dude, you do. You’re so lonely it’s sad.” 

“Thanks man,” Tsuneto elbowed Karl in the ribs, “Pretending for one crazy minute that I did agree to this, just a night with one of their hosts costs more than what I make in a year. How the hell am I ever gonna afford that?” 

“Kei and I would help of course,” Karl adjusted his glasses, “And it’s not **that** expensive.” 

“Uhhh, yeah it is,” Tsuneto rolled his eyes, “This isn’t happening.”

“I dare you,” Karl challenged. 

“And I second it,” Kei added. 

“If you like it, you have to play video games with me and visit the shelters with Kei for a week,” Karl said. 

“And if I don’t like it?” Tsuneto propped his hands on his hips. 

“Then I’ll do your homework for a week,” Karl said. 

“That’s a deal,” Tsuneto smirked.


End file.
